


Communication

by wrenseroticlibrary_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Begging, Blow Jobs, Consent Issues, Deepthroating, Drunk Sex, Enthusiastic Consent, First Kiss, Gender Issues, Hand Jobs, Heteronormativity, M/M, Making Out, Morning After, Morning Sex, Neck Kissing, Orgasm Control, Retroactive Consent, Spit As Lube, Victim Blaming, Wingman Dean Winchester, dubious consent due to alcohol consumption, is that a gun in your pocket or are you just happy to see me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:01:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23315836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrenseroticlibrary_archivist/pseuds/wrenseroticlibrary_archivist
Summary: Castiel finds out firsthand that sober sex is better than drunk sex.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 1
Kudos: 95





	Communication

**Author's Note:**

> Wren's tags: supernatural, destiel, castiel, dean winchester, drunk!dean, drunk sex, first time, dubcon.
> 
> Wren's warnings: The first half of this story contains dub-con because Dean is drunk and Cas doesn’t know what to do with his feelings.
> 
> Archivist's warnings: In the first half of the story, where Dean is very drunk, Dean and Cas each have a degree of carelessness with the other's consent. Dean kisses Cas without permission, and Cas goes along with Dean's requests for sexual activity despite suspecting that once Dean sobers up, Dean will have mixed feelings about it. However, sober Dean talks things out with Cas and they each give retroactive consent to the events of the night before (and then they have sex again with better consent practices). So tl;dr it works out but only because they were lucky, please don't try this at home.

Castiel peered uncomfortably into the depths of his drink and tried to avoid eye contact with the table of women who were all smiling and staring at him. He took another sip in the hopes that it would start activating some of that “liquid courage” Dean kept talking about, but all he got was a slight tingle on the way down. He gave his glass a scrutinizing look. Maybe it was defective.

He turned his head at the sound of a giggle. One of the women was staring at him with big brown eyes, biting her lip and twirling a strand of hair around her finger. Castiel swallowed and looked away quickly. He may be picking up on the basics, but he was still no expert on the nuance of human interaction, and at the moment he felt pretty out of his depth.

It was a relief when Dean slid into the seat next to him, albeit a little unsteadily.

“Having fun yet, Cas?”

Castiel sighed and put his glass down. “The alcohol is somewhat disappointing.”

“Hm. Sounds like you need to drink more.” Dean peered at Castiel’s glass. “How many drinks have you had, anyway?”

Castiel stared at the glass of whiskey in his hand. “I... don’t know.”

“...Oh. Well.” Dean slid around so his back was to the bar and took another sip of beer.

There was a giggle from somewhere behind him. Studiously ignoring the urge to glare over his shoulder, Castiel leaned over the bar. “Dean,” he whispered urgently, “these women have been staring at me all evening. I’m not sure what they want.”

Dean shot a quick glance at the table in question and his face broke into a grin. “Oh, Cas. I can tell you what they want.”

Castiel watched impatiently as Dean took a slow sip of beer.

“...Well? What is it?”

Dean snickered, and Castiel had a terrible feeling he was being laughed at. “They want you, Cas. Those lovely ladies over there? They’d like to take you home.”

“Take me home and what?”

“Get you in bed, Cas. They want to have sex with you.”

Castiel pulled back in surprise. He shot the table of women a brief, horrified look. “...I don’t even know them!”

Dean smirked. “Oh, believe me, Cas, they don’t mind.” His smile evaporated suddenly, as if a terrible thought had just occurred to him. He turned to face Castiel, face serious. “If one of them walks up to you and asks if it hurt when you fell from Heaven, just... just buy her a drink or something, don’t take it literally.”

Castiel tensed. “Why would they ask that?”

“It’s a figure of bleach. ...Speech.” Dean took another sip of beer and waved the bottle around. “See... normal people don’t know that angels are _dicks_ , and they think calling you one is a compliment.”

Castiel nodded slowly. “...If you say so.” He turned his attention back to his drink, troubled. The thought of partaking in human intercourse while occupying a vessel was peculiar enough, but... with a human he’d never even spoken to? It made him uneasy. The fleshy bit wasn’t even the problem. Such intimacy with a human soul, a soul that he was completely unfamiliar with, all close and talking and _feeling_ things with each other...

It didn’t sound remotely pleasant.

The women were giggling again, and Dean was staring at his empty beer in disappointment. Castiel shifted uncomfortably. Dean was starting to look like the only barrier between him and complete strangers who wanted to have sex with him, and Castiel wasn’t interested in that barrier getting room-is-spinning drunk. He stood up and cleared his throat meaningfully.

“I’d like to go back to the motel room.”

A big grin broke across Dean’s face. “Which one?”

“...The one you checked us into.”

“No, I mean which one of _them_?” Dean gestured with his empty beer bottle at the table of women. “Or all three?”

“None. Of. Them.” Castiel held up two fingers and Dean lurched back in his seat. “My assumption is that you prefer to walk, but—”

“Yeah, walking, good!” Dean slammed some money down on the bar and downed the rest of Castiel’s drink before standing up, grabbing onto the bar for support. “Let’s go, let’s start walking!”

There ended up being a significant element of “carrying” to the walking. Dean was having a hard time figuring out how his feet worked, so after a few minutes of him stumbling into things Castiel grabbed him with a sigh and held him upright as they staggered home.

“If you weren’t gonna say yes to ’em, you could’ve at least let me have a shot,” Dean grumbled, clinging to Castiel’s trench coat. “Poor girls are gonna go home lonely now.”

“I am sure they’ll survive,” Castiel assured him patiently.

“And why were they only staring at you?” Dean’s voice was suddenly offended. “Why didn’t I get eye-groped? Is it because you’re an angel?” He stabbed an accusing finger at Castiel’s chest that missed on the first try. “Were you workin’ some angel mojo to get chicks?”

“Why,” Castiel ground out, “would you even think I would do that. I already said I don’t want what they’re offering.”

They had reached the motel room. Castiel fished the key out of Dean’s pocket and opened the door.

“It’s your eyes, innit?” Dean clung to Castiel as he was wrenched into the motel. “You’ve got those crazy blue eyes that chicks love. Really. Cas.” Dean was grabbing Castiel’s coat with a look of urgency. “Your eyes are _stupid_ pretty.”

“...Of course they are, Dean.” Castiel began dragging Dean towards the bed, but he was becoming less cooperative.

“Seriously.” Dean’s face was close enough that Castiel could feel his hot breath. It smelled like beer and Dean. “If I saw a chick with eyes like that, man. I don’t even. Just.” Castiel bumped against the bed but Dean had latched on to him and wasn’t letting go, warm breath all over his neck and face. “Those eyes looking up at me. Fuck.”

Castiel frowned. “I am not shorter than you.”

Dean smirked and leaned close to Castiel’s ear. “You would be if you were on your knees.”

The color drained from Castiel’s face and he gave Dean an angel-strength shove that threw him onto the mattress. “You should go to bed and fall asleep right now,” he ordered quickly. He frowned again when Dean sat up and started laughing.

“What is it now?”

Dean looked immensely pleased with himself. “See, it’s not gay, cause you’re an angel.”

“...What?”

Before Castiel could phrase a more clear question, Dean grabbed his tie and yanked him down and _kissed him_. For a moment Castiel was too shocked by the sensation of _someone else’s lips on his_ to do much of anything. It was weird and soft and wet and _why were there two tongues in his mouth?_ Then Dean made a little noise into the kiss and it came slamming back that this wasn’t just any mouth, this was _Dean’s_ , his Dean, classic rock and bacon cheeseburger and sarcastic one-liner Dean, and this was Dean’s _mouth_ pressed up against his, and Dean was _loving it_.

Castiel pushed away from the kiss and staggered back two steps. Dean sat on the bed stupidly, eyes hazy and mouth still parted and wet in the dim light, and some of that saliva was _his_ —Castiel rubbed a hand over his mouth self-consciously. His face was burning, and for some reason his heart was pounding in his chest.

Dean pointed a lazy finger at him. “Not gay.”

“... _Sure_ ,” Castiel managed. He had no idea what Dean was talking about. He cleared his throat, screwed up his courage, and placed a firm hand against Dean’s chest. It felt solid and warm. “Why don’t you get some sleep now. Right now.” To himself he muttered, “Hopefully you can explain all this to me in the morning.”

To Castiel’s relief, Dean let himself be pushed back onto the mattress, though he was still staring back with that mystified look. With some coaxing, Castiel managed to get Dean’s feet on the bed and even orient him properly on the mattress, but when he tried to pull away Dean grabbed his arm.

“No,” he murmured sleepily, “don’ leave. Stay.”

Castiel didn’t respond for a minute or two, just staring down at Dean. The look in his eyes wasn’t one Castiel had ever seen before, all hazy and open and longing. It felt nice to have Dean look at him like that, made him feel warm and shivery. Castiel didn’t want to pull away from that look, so he sat down on the bed. Dean continued to tug on his arm and mumbled something that sounded like “closer,” so Castiel pulled off his shoes and jacket and lay down on the mattress. Dean made a happy humming noise and pressed up against him, nuzzling his face into Castiel’s neck, and that also felt nice and scary and soothing all at once.

“Yer warm,” Dean breathed. “Warm angel. My warm angel.”

Castiel let out an anxious breath and stared up at the ceiling as Dean wrapped an arm around him and cuddled closer. The physical closeness was pleasant—comforting, even, a steady reminder that Dean was safe and alive and here next to him—but all the same, he hoped Dean would fall asleep soon. He was no expert on the effects of alcohol, but this was not normal Dean behavior, and it was starting to worry him.

Dean let out a low, content breath against Castiel’s neck. His hand was rubbing in slow circles over the angel’s stomach and up his sides. Castiel found himself relaxing into the touches and closing his eyes. He was... _starting_ to understand the whole sex thing. Touching was pretty nice.

Dean’s hand worked its way up slowly, rumpling his shirt as it progressed. When it reached Castiel’s chest, Dean froze.

There was an awkward moment of silence before Castiel asked the ceiling, “Is something wrong, Dean?”

“...I forgot you don’t have tits,” Dean admitted.

Castiel closed his eyes and let out a sigh. “Dean, I have never possessed mammary glands in the time you’ve known me.”

“Why don’t you have tits, Cas?” Dean continued, ignoring him. His hand began moving over Castiel’s chest again. “You’d make one hell of a chick. God. You’d just be beautiful. Those eyes of yours. I’ll bet they’re even prettier when someone’s touching you, making you all hot and breathless.”

“Dean.” Castiel pulled back enough to look Dean in the eye. “I think I should—”

Dean silenced him with another kiss, pulling Castiel onto his side and pressing their bodies together. Something hard was digging into Castiel’s leg, but he didn’t have time to work out what it was because Dean’s tongue was in his mouth again and he was making those little grunting noises like Castiel was made of something delicious and he couldn’t get enough. It was still weird and full of confusing textures, but Castiel didn’t pull back this time. He could keep the alarm at bay if he took deep breaths, and damn he was curious about this. So instead of pushing Dean away, he held still and let Dean explore his mouth, analyzing each new sensation as it arose. The tongue was easily the strangest part. It felt too much like his own, only moving by itself. The lips really weren’t that bad, though. They were just soft and warm, and mouthing at his gently. It was really pleasant, if he was being honest. Tentatively, he tried returning some of the motions that Dean was going through, and was rewarded when Dean gave a groan and pulled his body closer. The response made Castiel’s pulse skip, and he continued to return the kiss, running a hand uncertainly down Dean’s back.

Dean’s hips were pressed hard against his, and whatever was stabbing into Castiel’s leg, it was getting really uncomfortable. A brief concern flickered in the back of Castiel’s mind that it was a gun in Dean’s pocket—that just wasn’t safe at the moment—but the kiss was too distracting, too full of heat and lips and the taste of alcohol and Dean.

The kiss didn’t break until Dean’s hand slid all the way down Castiel’s back and tightened over his butt. Castiel yanked away from Dean’s mouth in surprise.

“That is _not_ part of kissing,” he panted quickly. Of course he couldn’t know that for sure, but... kissing was a thing you did with your mouth, as far as he could tell, and butt-grabbing seemed pretty darn off topic.

“Can’t help it, Cas.” The crooked grin on Dean’s face was making Castiel’s stomach do strange things. “You’re just pretty all over, my pretty angel, I wanna touch you everywhere.”

Dean’s hand squeezed again, and Castiel swallowed. His pants felt tighter than he remembered. “Dean, your attraction to me is... flattering. I guess. But, um...” Castiel tried to find words as Dean’s free hand began unbuttoning his shirt. “I think... I think your judgement may be impaired.” His pants were getting _really_ uncomfortable.

Dean let out an offended snort and slid his hand into Castiel’s open shirt. “Shut up, I’m totally paired right now.”

“I think it would be wiser to discuss this in the morning when you’re— _aaah._ ” Castiel was cut off as Dean leaned down and pressed his mouth into the angel’s chest. Those soft lips again, pressing against his bare skin all sweet and hungry. Dean ground his hips against Castiel, and something hard in his pants was pressing against something hard in Castiel’s pants and—oh. _That’s_ what was happening down there.

“You taste sweet, Cas,” Dean murmured against his chest, licking and sucking on the sensitive skin. “D’all angels taste sweet, or is it just you?”

 _I have no idea what other angels taste like._ The words didn’t even make it out of his mouth, because Dean’s hand slid over his hip and was rubbing against the front of his pants and _that_ , God Almighty, _that_ was more than just distracting, that was making his whole body feel hot and quivery and _amazing_. Without even thinking he reached a hand between Dean’s legs and grabbed the hot, hard length in his pants because, God, he wanted to make Dean feel like this.

“Yeah... Cas...” Dean was panting into his neck, pressing his hips forward into Castiel’s hand. “Oh god, Cas, that’s so nice...”

Castiel groaned into Dean’s hair, fumbling at the hunter’s groin and trying to figure out what would make him feel best. He had no idea what he was supposed to do, but he had to make Dean talk like that again. Dean’s words felt better than the hand rubbing him, so low and choked with pleasure. Pleasure _he_ was causing. Castiel gave Dean’s hair a gentle tug, at first cautiously and then with more confidence, pulling him up and pressing a kiss to his lips. Kissing was good, he was starting to understand how it worked. He could do this while he figured out what to do with an erection.

One of Dean’s hands was unzipping Castiel’s pants, the other pushing his shirt off his shoulders. The sensation of his clothing peeling away, leaving his skin exposed to the air and Dean’s hands, was making Castiel’s heart pound, and he pulled back from Dean’s mouth for a moment to take a few deep breaths in an effort to calm himself.

“Okay. Evidently, this is the part where we take clothes off. I can do this.” He started moving his hand away from Dean’s groin to take the hunter’s jacket off, but Dean grabbed his wrist with a growl and pressed it back between his legs. Castiel swallowed hard, the air gone from his lungs. Dean dove back onto his mouth ravenously, biting at him and pushing his hips forward into Castiel’s hand.

The aggression and the hunger and that _growl_ all made Castiel’s head spin. He’d wanted to make Dean feel good, but God, he didn’t realize he’d been so _successful_. Dean’s voice and body oozed desperation, pressing up against him hard and grabbing at his clothes. Castiel gave Dean’s erection an experimental squeeze through his pants. The hunter moaned into his mouth, and _that_ , wow, no wonder humans loved this, he could listen to that sound all night. Castiel took a tentative bite at Dean’s lip and squeezed him again, smiling into the kiss when he got another groan.

Dean was yanking Castiel’s shirt off, allowing the angel’s hand to leave his erection for one brief moment so that the offending garment could be thrown onto the floor. Castiel didn’t need Dean’s encouragement to go right back to groping him again, and he used his free hand to pull Dean’s jacket off. It got stuck on the arm that was pinned between Dean and the bed, so Castiel ignored it and pulled Dean’s shirt up instead, pressing himself against the newly exposed skin. Dean’s bare chest was hot and firm and smooth and he could feel that toned body flexing against him, one strong hand yanking down his pants and wrapping fingers around his—

Castiel arched his back and let out a pitiful moan as Dean’s hand slid up him slowly. It felt a thousand times better without the pants in the way. He panted into Dean’s mouth as the hunter’s hand stroked up and down. Frantically, he fumbled with Dean’s pants, trying to get them open. If he could make Dean feel like this, God...

Dean broke away from the kiss and pressed his face into Castiel’s neck, licking and biting. His hand pumped steadily up and down Castiel’s cock, making him shudder and shake and beg under his breath. Dean’s free hand was still grabbing Castiel’s and holding it hard against his groin, growling each time he bucked forward into it. Castiel could feel Dean shaking against him, hear his breathing, his groaning, hungry and aroused and loving every second, God, Dean, his Dean, groaning and shuddering under his touch and making noises like he was going to—

Castiel’s body lurched and he gasped in a mixture of shock and ecstasy as he came in Dean’s hand, warm wet splatters covering his stomach. Tremors of pleasure shook him as Dean’s hand kept moving, carrying him through the orgasm wave after wave, until it was too much and Castiel bit his lip and pushed Dean’s hand away so he could catch his breath.

Dean’s mouth was still all over his neck, sucking and biting and panting. Castiel managed to clear his head enough to pull Dean’s pants down, grabbing his erection and clumsily trying to mimic what Dean had done to him. Dean groaned against his neck, and Castiel took this as a sign of encouragement. The hunter worked back up to his mouth, kissing him with a thin, desperate sound that made Castiel’s heart skip a beat. Dean’s hand closed over his fingers and began guiding his motions, showing him how fast to go, how hard to rub, where to squeeze. Castiel followed the silent suggestions carefully, chest swelling with some unexplainable emotion when Dean broke the kiss to gasp breathlessly against his lips. Castiel reached up with his free hand to cup Dean’s face, not wanting to miss a second of this. Dean’s lips were red and wet in the dim light and his face was flushed with arousal, his eyes out of focus and staring at Castiel through a haze of desire. Castiel moved his hand faster and watched, transfixed, as Dean gasped and clenched his teeth and finally let out a delicious moan as he came in Castiel’s hand.

When the last shudders of pleasure faded from Dean’s body, he let out a long breath and slumped against Castiel. Castiel caught his breath, taking stock of the situation as he rested his forehead against Dean’s. They were both still tangled in clothes, and there was a significant mess on their stomachs and the blankets. Blankets that they were lying on top of. As the sex heat dissipated, this became less comfortable. With a grunt, Castiel managed to roll Dean over onto his back and pull off the rest of his clothes, tossing them to the floor. Dean was passed out, not even twitching as Castiel used a sock to wipe the worst of the mess off his stomach. It was a bit of a hassle to get the covers out from under him, but Castiel managed. At that point, it seemed like the polite thing would be to pull the blankets over Dean and let him sleep, but somewhere in the process of getting the covers out from under him Dean had summoned up just enough lucidity to cling to Castiel’s body, wrapping his arms around the angel’s waist and grunting impatiently when he tried to pull away. With a sigh, Castiel lay down and pulled the covers over them both. Dean pressed up against him with an incoherent mutter and Castiel let out a breath, stared at the ceiling, and waited for sunrise.

* * *

Dean woke slowly with a hangover and a warm body pressed up against him. The ache in his head was annoying, but it didn’t keep a smile from his lips. _Must have been a good night._ He didn’t remember taking a girl home, but evidently he did something right because she was still here, naked in bed with him, her back spooned up against his chest. Dean let out a sleepy breath and casually ran his fingertips down her side. She’d probably be out the door soon—that’s how one night stands tended to work—but for now he wanted to drag out the slow, sleepy, “waking up” stage. He pressed his face into her hair and let out a slow breath. Short hair. Not his usual type, but nothing wrong with a little variety. Dean ran his fingertips gently from her sides to her stomach, barely brushing the skin.

When his fingers roamed up from her stomach to her chest he froze.

“...You don’t have breasts,” he pointed out.

An extremely familiar voice replied patiently, “Yes, you mentioned that last night.”

Dean wasn’t sure what happened next, but somehow he ended up on the floor with the sheets tangled around him, staring up with horror at a perplexed Castiel. _Naked Castiel. Naked Castiel in my bed._ Dean blinked several times in the hope that the image would resolve itself into something that made more sense, but naked-Castiel-in-his-bed remained stubbornly real. Dean ran a hand over his face slowly, trying to find words. “Okay,” he managed at last, “I’ve got a whole lot of questions that I’m frightened to learn the answers to. But let’s start with... why the hell were we in bed together?”

Castiel looked between the bed and Dean before replying. “You wouldn’t let me leave.”

“I... _I_ wouldn’t let you leave?”

“Yes. You kept grabbing me. It seemed like you wanted me to stay.”

Dean rubbed a hand over his eyes. His hangover was starting to kick into gear. “And... I’m naked because?”

“You were getting tangled in your clothes.”

“And... the reason _you’re_ naked...?”

“You took mine off.” Castiel glanced away as though something was distracting him, and said in a quieter voice, “...Quite emphatically.”

“...Fuck.” Dean staggered to his feet, keeping the sheet wrapped around his waist. He took a steadying breath. “Castiel. Did...” He rubbed a hand over his forehead again and groaned apprehensively. “...did we have sex?”

Castiel stared at the ceiling thoughtfully for a few moments before replying. “Yes.”

“Shit.” Dean let out a long, tense breath. The memories were seeping back, sensations of a body pressed close to him, a warm mouth on his lips, and his hand wrapped around and jerking off a cock that was most certainly _not_ his own—

The ache in his head was growing, and his mouth tasted like morning breath and stale beer. Still holding the sheets over his hips, Dean reached down and grabbed his pants from where they had been tossed onto the floor. _Tossed there last night. When you fucked an angel._ Dean clenched his hands. _And loved it._ Straightening up, he looked back at Castiel.

“Turn around.”

Castiel looked puzzled. “Why?”

“Because I’d like to put some pants on and I don’t need you oogling my junk.”

“It’s not like I haven’t—”

“Cas.” Dean rubbed a hand over his eyes wearily. “Please? My brain can only handle so much weirdness at once.”

Castiel looked unimpressed, but averted his eyes all the same. Dean yanked the pants onto his legs and sighed as he zipped them up.

“Okay. That’s one wrong righted.” Dean stared at the wall and ran a hand through his hair. There were a whole lot of things he needed to process, but the first order of business was getting that taste out of his mouth. _Oh please god, let it just be beer._ He pointed a finger at Castiel. “I’m going to the bathroom. You just... stay there.”

Castiel gave him a hesitant nod and Dean disappeared into the bathroom.

——

The time Dean spent in the bathroom gave Castiel a while to think. Dean’s behavior, though panicky, was not terribly surprising. He’d known last night that Dean wasn’t behaving normally, and had been expecting some conflict to arise when he woke up sober. A dark little voice in the back of Castiel’s mind kept reminding him that Dean wouldn’t be freaking out if Castiel had just pushed him away and let him pass out in the bed alone, but... _He just seemed to want it so badly. He enjoyed it so much._ Castiel shifted uncomfortably under the sheets. _He’s sure not enjoying it now._

Castiel’s head turned when the sound of running water stopped. A few seconds later the bathroom door creaked open and Dean stepped out. He didn’t meet Castiel’s eyes, walking across the room and staring anywhere but the bed. His obvious unease was contagious, and Castiel tensed under the sheets.

“Cas...” Dean began uncomfortably. “Last night, um... I take it I came on pretty strong.”

 _Shoved the hand back between his legs with a growl._ Castiel cleared his throat, a brief flush of heat rising to his face. “Yes, I would say that.”

“Did...” Dean looked extremely anxious. His hands fidgeted at his sides and he let out a few tense breaths before he could speak. “Cas, did I make you do something you didn’t want to do?”

Castiel thought for a moment. “You made me do things I didn’t _plan_ to do.”

“But did I... shit, Cas.” Dean finally looked at him. “I didn’t force you into anything, did I?”

“Of course not.” The obvious fear in Dean’s eyes was upsetting. “Dean, I’m an angel. Believe me, I could have stopped you whenever I wanted to.”

“Oh thank god.” Dean collapsed into a rickety motel chair. “I thought I might have... god. That’s a huge relief.”

Castiel fidgeted with the sheets. “...Are you mad at me, Dean?”

Dean glanced at him. “Why would I be mad at you?”

“For... not stopping you.”

“What? Shit, Cas, no. I was drunk and pawing all over you and...” Dean looked up sharply. “And this was your first damn time, wasn’t it? Hell, no wonder you didn’t stop me.” A little tentatively, he gave Castiel a crooked grin. “I guess you understand why it’s such a big deal now.”

“What, sex?”

“Yeah. Now you get why everyone wants to have it all the time.”

Castiel thought about this, then nodded. “It was definitely an informative experience.”

The smile vanished from Dean’s face. “...Informative.”

“Yes.”

“No, no, Cas.” Dean stood up. “You just had sex. For the very first time.” He pressed his hands against his bare chest. “With _me_. And the best you’ve got is ‘informative’?”

“It was... good?” Castiel shrugged. “I’m not sure what you’re expecting me to say.”

“‘ _Good’_? Fuck, how drunk was I? You shouldn’t be able to _see_ straight after that!”

Castiel looked worried. “...Sex can impair eyesight?”

“No. Cas. Listen.” Dean walked up to the bed. “Last night? I was _crap_. That wasn’t good sex, Cas. You haven’t had good sex yet.”

Castiel shifted under the sheets. “I suppose I will have to take your word for it.”

“Screw that.” Dean sat on the bed next to him. He hesitated and let out a resolved breath before continuing. “Lemme make this up to you, Cas. That shouldn’t have been your first time.”

“Really, Dean, it’s all right. Besides, it’s not like you can—” Castiel stopped as Dean placed a hand under his chin.

“I can’t have you thinking sex is always like that. You should know it can be better.” He brought his face close to Castiel’s, breathing against his lips. “I owe you after last night.”

It took all of Castiel’s willpower to push Dean away. “You don’t owe me anything, Dean.”

“I want to, Cas.” Dean’s face flushed slightly and he glanced away. “Look, I don’t remember everything about last night, but... I remember it wasn’t exactly a chore.” He looked back up. “I’m serious about this. If you still want it, I’m offering.”

Dean, his Dean, _sober_ Dean, sitting on the bed next to him, no clothes but those faded jeans, asking if he wants to... Castiel swallowed once. “...Are you certain?”

“Yeah. Besides...” Dean grinned. “It’s not gay if it’s with an angel, right? I’ve done some research, and you guys don’t even have genders.”

“Yeah, you said that last night too,” Castiel agreed quickly, unable to take his eyes off Dean’s lips.

Dean’s grin broadened and he finally closed the distance between them, pressing his lips against Castiel’s. Castiel was expecting the clumsy wetness from last night, but for a while all he got was lips, soft lips, sliding over him velvet-smooth. The first touch of tongue he felt was a light trace. When it trailed across his lips a second time, Castiel opened for it with a groan. Dean’s hand wrapped around the back of his neck and pulled him closer, his tongue teasing its way slowly into Castiel’s mouth, always flicking back out and leaving him with nothing but those soft lips before slowly working in again. When Dean’s tongue finally touched his, brushing against it lightly before pulling away, Castiel groaned again and shuddered.

Dean smiled into the kiss and pulled back so he could see Castiel’s face. “See? A lot nicer than last night, I’ll bet.”

Castiel nodded weakly. “Yeah. Better. Absolutely.”

“Want me to keep going?”

“Yes. If you still want to.”

Dean’s hand pressed against his chest, running down it slowly before pushing him back onto the pillows. Castiel swallowed as Dean crawled on top of him, straddling him, leaning down to kiss him. Again the kiss was slow and teasing, nothing like the messiness of last night. Dean took one of Castiel’s hands in his and guided it to his waist. Castiel took the cue and gingerly ran his hand over Dean’s body, sliding across his back. God, he could feel every muscle. Castiel murmured into the kiss, his thoughts consumed by a steady stream of _Dean Dean Dean Dean Dean Dean..._

Dean’s mouth pulled away from his and moved to his ear. “I’m gonna pull the covers down,” he breathed. “You want that?”

Castiel’s hand tightened against the hunter’s back. He’d been hard since Dean sat on the bed. “Yes.”

Dean’s hand slid down his body slowly, pulling the sheets as it went. “I’m gonna touch you, Cas,” the hunter purred. He gave Castiel’s ear a gentle nip and the angel arched into it. “I’m gonna touch you nice and slow. Make you want every second. Sound nice?”

“Yes, Dean, please.”

Dean snickered. “God, Cas, begging already.” He leaned down and kissed the angel’s neck, his hand running over Castiel’s bare hip. “I’ve barely started. You’re gonna be a mess when I’m done.” Dean moved his mouth down Castiel’s chest, still pulling the covers down his legs. “A hot, sloppy mess.”

“Dean...”

Dean nipped at Castiel’s chest and looked up at him with that confident grin. His fingers traced feather-light over Castiel’s skin, never touching him where he desperately needed to be touched.

“Look at you, Cas. I didn’t even have to _try_ to get you hard.” His finger trailed down the inside of Castiel’s thigh, words low and hot against his chest. “You must _really_ want this.”

Castiel shuddered and squeezed the sheets in his hands. “Dean, please...”

Dean placed one finger on the head of Castiel’s cock and ran it gently down his length. Castiel bit his tongue to muffle the embarrassingly loud moan that was building in the back of his throat. When Dean’s palm slid up his cock slowly, he couldn’t quite hold it back anymore.

“God, Cas, you sound so fucking desperate.” Dean was staring up at him with a look that was downright hungry, teasing his fingers down the sides of Castiel’s shaft. His teeth nipped at the angel’s chest again—harder this time—and Castiel let out a whine. “I could make you come in seconds if I wanted to, couldn’t I? Just a few hard strokes and you’d spill all over your chest. But I’m not gonna do that, Cas, not gonna make this quick at all. Gonna drag this out.”

Castiel’s cock twitched against Dean’s fingers, and the hunter laughed and pulled his hand away.

“God, you’re gonna beg me so nice and pretty.”

“Dean...!” Breathless, Castiel grabbed Dean’s hair and pulled him up into a kiss. He could tell he wasn’t quite doing it right, too hesitant and unskilled, but Dean was returning it eagerly and that was good enough for him. He ran his hands down Dean’s back, trying to pull him closer, but Dean kept his body several inches away, refusing to let Castiel’s erection brush his stomach. When Castiel groaned impatiently, Dean bit his lip and pulled back from the kiss half an inch.

“Something you want, Cas?” the hunter mocked softly.

“God yes... Dean... I want you to do what you did last night, want you to touch me like that. Please.”

“Listen to you beg. God, that’s hot.” Dean ran two fingers over Castiel’s wet lips. “Open. I’m gonna tease you some more.”

Castiel let the fingers slide in, panting as they rubbed across his tongue.

“Such a nice mouth, Cas. Looks good with fingers in it. God, at some point I’d like to...” Dean cut himself off. “Well, one thing at a time.”

The fingers slid slowly out of Castiel’s mouth and were replaced by Dean’s lips before he could get a word out.

“Gonna do something, Cas,” Dean panted into the kiss. “If you don’t like it, just say so and I’ll stop.”

Castiel nodded fervently into the kiss, but at the moment he couldn’t think of a damn thing Dean could do that he wouldn’t want. When he felt the wet fingers push behind his balls, he spread his legs by reflex.

“Fuck, Cas, so damn eager.”

Castiel moaned in response and didn’t flinch when Dean’s wet fingers rubbed against his hole. He wasn’t positive where this was going, but he didn’t want Dean to stop touching him.

Dean pulled back from the kiss and cupped Castiel’s face as his finger swirled in a slow circle. “Still good, Cas?”

Castiel nodded, hand tangled in Dean’s hair. “Yes. God, yes.”

“I’m gonna keep going. You speak up if it hurts.”

Castiel pulled Dean’s mouth back against his. “Yeah, okay...”

Dean kissed down to Castiel’s neck and slowly began working his finger in. Castiel panted and ran his hands down Dean’s back. He didn’t know why Dean thought this would hurt, it felt amazing. His hand tightened in Dean’s hair and he murmured in pleasure as Dean’s finger slid in up to the knuckle.

“Geez, Cas, taking this so damn well. Love how that feels, don’t you?”

Castiel moaned in response when Dean started sliding the finger in and out. Dean kept his movements slow and gentle, staring up at Castiel’s face to make sure he was still enjoying it.

“Look at you, God, just look at you, knew those eyes would get prettier when you’re horny. You want more, Cas? Want another finger? I can stretch you out if you like, Cas.”

Castiel couldn’t form a coherent response, so he just groaned breathlessly and bucked his hips up.

“Yeah, thought so, hoped you’d like this. Okay, hold still, I’m gonna put in the second one. Just relax and it’ll slide in nice and easy. Fuck, Cas, you’re a goddamned natural at this.”

“Dean...” Castiel finally managed to get out a solid word through his gasping. “Please, Dean, I want—I need you to—” With a frustrated whine, he grabbed Dean’s free hand and slid it down his stomach.

Dean grinned at him. “Want me to stroke you again, Cas? Need to come? It’s called ‘coming,’ Cas, tell me you want it.”

“Dean, please, need to come, I want you to make me come!”

Dean panted, lips brushing against Castiel’s. He wrapped his fingers one by one around Castiel’s shaft and squeezed slowly. “Fuck, Cas, can’t say no to that.”

Castiel arched his back and closed his eyes and groaned as Dean’s hand stroked up and down his cock, fingers still buried in him. The dual sensation was more than he could stand. Within seconds he was shouting Dean’s name and coming all over his stomach, his whole body shuddering in pleasure. Dean kissed him as he rode it out, murmuring into his mouth, “That’s it, Cas, just like that, bet that feels so nice, shh, you’re okay, I’ve got you.”

The tremors faded slowly and Castiel relaxed into Dean’s kiss. Dean pulled his fingers out gently and wiped his hand off on his pants, pressing close to Castiel and kissing him slowly before pulling back and tapping a finger against his nose.

“That,” he whispered, “is what _good_ sex is like.”

Castiel let out a shaky breath. “The difference is... dramatic.”

Dean laughed and climbed off of Castiel, standing up and stretching his arms. “Well, now that that’s out of the way, I need a goddamn coffee.”

“Wait...” Castiel shot Dean a concerned look. “You didn’t... I mean...”

Dean glanced down at his own jeans, and the unmistakable bulge in them. He rubbed a hand against the back of his neck. “Eh, don’t worry about it, Cas. I’ll just have a long shower.”

“Dean—I would _really_ like to.”

Dean’s eyebrows pursed. “You sure?”

“Really.” Castiel swung his legs over the bed and hooked his finger in Dean’s pants, dragging him closer. “I want to make you feel as good as I did. Just show me what to do.”

Dean looked down at him with unmistakable lust, licking his lips nervously. He ran a hand through Castiel’s dark hair. “Same deal, right? You say stop and I stop.”

“For the last time, yes.”

“Kay. Good. Right.” Dean took a deep breath and guided Castiel’s hand from his hip to his groin. “Just start by rubbing. Firm but not rough.”

Castiel ground his palm slowly up the ridge in Dean’s pants, and was rewarded with a groan. “Yeah, that’s it, Cas. You’re gonna be a fast learner...”

Those pants were getting in the way. Still looking up at Dean, Castiel unbuttoned them and pulled the zipper down. Dean continued to rub a hand through his hair, watching as Castiel worked his erection out of his pants.

“Yeah, now just run your hand up and down it like I did to you. That’s good, focus on the head, that’s the part that... nnh... god yes, just like that.” Dean closed his eyes and panted as Castiel’s hand slid over him. “Just a little faster now, rotate your fist as it moves. God, that’s perfect, Cas. Wanna... god, Cas...” Dean swallowed and ran his hand down Castiel’s cheek, brushing a thumb over his lips. “Cas, I... I wanna try out that mouth of yours.”

Castiel nodded his consent, watching Dean’s flushed face with rapt attention.

“Okay, just open your mouth a bit...”

Dean’s hand cupped the back of his head again and pulled him closer. Castiel parted his lips and slid them slowly over the head of Dean’s cock.

“Yeah, Cas, that’s good. Don’t dive down on it too quickly, just lick it a bit. Use your tongue and— _oh god_ , yeah, looks like you don’t need my help for that, fuck, Cas...” Dean groaned and his hand tightened in Castiel’s hair. “That’s fucking perfect, take it into your mouth nice and slow. Keep moving your tongue, nnh, just like that. God, Cas, that’s so good...”

Dean’s cock felt perfect in his mouth, like it belonged there. Castiel bobbed his head slowly up and down the same way he’d moved his hand, watching Dean’s face to figure out what worked best.

“Quick study, Cas, fuck, that’s so damn nice...” Dean clenched his teeth when Castiel applied suction. “Fuck fuck yes, _that_ , Cas, keep doing _that_. Suck on it when it’s in your mouth, god... Hold still for a second, I... I wanna...” Dean shut his eyes and thrust slowly in and out of Castiel’s mouth, panting hard. “God, Cas, keep your mouth open like that, holy fuck, feels even better than it looks...”

Castiel held still and let Dean thrust in and out of his mouth, still moving his tongue as much as he could.

“Perfect, Cas, you’re fucking perfect. Try taking it a little deeper, see if you can get it—” Dean’s eyes flew open and he sucked in a frantic gasp, doubling up over Castiel’s head. “Oh god, Cas, fuck, fuck, fuck, do angels not have gag reflexes or something? _God_ , how the hell are you even—fuck—Cas, I’m gonna— _Cas_!”

Castiel grabbed Dean’s hips hard and held him still, buried deep in his throat, as the hunter shouted and cursed and _came_ in his mouth.

He waited until Dean’s shudders had died down before pulling back and wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. He couldn’t quite keep an edge of smugness from his voice when he asked, “How did I do?”

“How?” Dean panted down at him. “Fucking angels, man. They should be _required_ to have sex with people.”

The smile that Castiel had been restraining broke across his face. Dean let out a conclusive breath and gave him a pat on the head.

“Now,” he stated, “I need some fucking coffee.”

**Author's Note:**

> Archived from https://wrenseroticlibrary.tumblr.com/post/48152373527/communication.
> 
> Details of formatting (italics on non-letter characters, length of dashes, treatment of multiple consecutive spaces, direction of angled quotes, etc) may have been changed, and obvious typos may have been corrected. The sequence of words has not been altered.
> 
> This is not my original work; it is Wren's. However, Wren has given permission for anyone to rearchive their works as long as the story and warnings are not modified.


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